


Playtime

by BunniesAndBooks



Category: Glee
Genre: Anal Sex, Belting, Bondage, Breathplay, Chains, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, M/M, Punishment, S&M, Slut Shaming, Spreader Bars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-30
Updated: 2014-12-30
Packaged: 2018-03-04 10:42:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3064790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BunniesAndBooks/pseuds/BunniesAndBooks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Puck's a sadist. Luckily for him, Kurt is a masochist. Pure PWP.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Playtime

A tanned hand was curled around his bare, pale neck with a calloused thumb pressing roughly against his throat, cutting off his air supply significantly - though not entirely - and making him gasp for breath. His body went limp and pliant against the strong chest before him as his cerulean eyes watered, making them glint and shimmer as he looked upon the man holding him. 

Yet he did absolutely nothing about his situation. He remained perfectly still, his naked body utterly motionless between the solid body in front of him and the hard, sturdy wall pressing against his back, allowing the mohawked teen to do whatever he pleased to him, to his body.

Kurt allowed Puck to mar him, to strike him, to bruise him, as much as the stronger man pleased – because he trusted Puck wholeheartedly and wanted to please him. Needed to be the good little slut Puck wanted.

Not to mention the pain of it all felt so tantalizingly delicious and good – far more satisfying than plain old niceness could ever be.

”What's the safeword, slut?” Puck asked cruelly with a voice soft as honey and eyes as hard as steel, knowing full well that Kurt wouldn't be able to speak with a hand squeezing his throat.

Not that Kurt wasn't trying anyway; his mouth forming the word over and over fruitlessly – no sound leaving his lips but for those miniscule and shaky puffs of air that came about when Puck flexed his fingers around Kurt's pale flesh.

”I can't hear you whore, what's your safeword?” Puck asked again with an evil smirk, just watching Kurt trying to answer Puck's question even more desperately than before.  
Suddenly Puck released his grip on Kurt – who instantly crumpled together on the floor, his hands rubbing over his sore throat as he wheezed in big gulps of air, finally breathing properly.

Puck, who was still fully clothed at this point, crouched down next to Kurt's heaving body. ”So, Princess, what's the safeword?”

Kurt tried to glare at the other man, though it lacked any severe heat. 

He loathed being called princess. Slut and whore and any of the other more imaginative derogatory names Puck kept calling him during their sessions were all fine, because he was all those things. He was a slut, a cumbucket, a whore. He was all of those things – when it came to Puck, and only when it came to Puck. He liked those names.

But he certainly was no princess. Just because he was a subby painslut bottom it didn't mean he was a girl – something Puck knew. But since he also knew how much it just irked Kurt he loved to tease him with it.

”Ah... ahr-gyle,” Kurt wheezed out, pathetically enough, though he couldn't deny how much he loved how raspy and vulnerable his voice sounded at the moment. ”And 'm n-no puh-rihn-cess.”

Puck just smirked at that. ”Uh-huh. Sure you're not.” He then proceeded to yank Kurt up by the arm; fingers digging into his unblemished skin and most likely leaving behind a new set of bruises showing his fingerprints as he shoved Kurt against the bed across the room, paying no heed to how Kurt stumbled and almost fell under his guidance.

”However,” Puck mumbled with a velvety soft voice straight into Kurt's ear, holding the slighter boy against his chest by the foot of the bed. ”...You are a slut. _My_ little painslut.” And with that Puck threw Kurt onto the bed, soon climbing atop the naked teen and claiming his lips in a furious grip; teeth biting into the younger man's lower lip as he gripped Kurt's thin wrists and pinned him down below him.

Kurt struggled to be a good boy; to remain quiet and still, but he lost all control when Puck bit his lips even harder than before, drawing the tiniest drop of blood from them. Then Kurt whined loudly, his hips bucking up against his will, searching for any possible source of friction against his needing body. Kurt craved Puck's touch so badly already.

”Lay still slut, or do you need help with that?” Puck threatened, biting down sharply against Kurt's already heavily bruised neck.

Kurt could only whimper; the thought of being tied down – of being forced into becoming motionless so Puck could ravage him – coupled with the bites being left onto his flesh immediately flooded his mind and body with heavy arousal. His cock, which had been hard since the last flimsy piece of clothing had been torn from his body, suddenly began to leak at the steady flow of creative thoughts circling through the countertenor's mind, drawing Puck's attention.

“Should've known you'd like that, huh princess?” Puck smirked, rather devilishly. “You just love your chains don't you?” And though the question was rhetorical Kurt nodded quickly, desperately, knowing Puck was absolutely right.

The cold steel of the chains against his skin... Just the thought made him shiver ever so pleasantly.

“Turn over and we'll find you something nice and tight then, and then _I'll_ have _my_.” funPuck murmured out sultrily, walking away as Kurt scrambled to comply.

Kurt was lying with his head buried amongst the pillows when Puck eventually came back, knowing he wouldn't be allowed to look until he was given explicit permission to do so. Which he wouldn't be.

“Hands and knees slut. Don't make me wait,” Puck ordered, but Kurt was in position before the bigger teen was even done speaking. He was so, so eager for what was about to come.

“Good little cumslut,” Puck praised, hands stroking over Kurt's presented ass, making Kurt positively beam with pride before letting out a surprised moan when Puck slapped him. “Yeah. So good. And so goddamn pale. But we will fix that, won't we slut? But first...”

Without a second to spare Kurt could feel something pinch so wonderfully around his right nipple, almost downright piercing it. Dropping his head down he could see it was one of their nipple clamps closed around it, clenching it. Ones with small metal rings attached to them, just begging to have chains running through them. The sight and feel of it made his mouth water.

Soon there was a clamp around his other nipple too; the two of them connecting to a thin leather choker around his neck – the chain short and making him somewhat unable to move his head freely, forcing him to keep it bowed to be comfortable. There were another chain attaching the choker to a loose cockring, that was placed around the crown of his cock. Kurt knew he would be able to come despite the presence of this cockring – he'd done it before, many times before – so he knew Puck only placed it there for decoration.

These were the only times Kurt could make Puck care about decorating.

That wasn't to say he would be _allowed_ to come however, because he knew he wouldn't be, not until Puck said so.

Finally his wrists and ankles were tied to a spreader bar – leaving him with his ass tilted up on display and unable to do anything about it. Not that he could ever dream of escaping this. It was heaven.

“Look at that,” Puck purred when he finished tying Kurt up, stepping back and just gazing at his little slut. Rough fingers stroked across Kurt's pale bottom, making him shiver pleasantly. “Such a slutty little boy, all tied up and waiting to be touched. To be _fucked_.”

Kurt had to bite his bottom lip hard just so he wouldn't moan embarrassingly loud at Puck's words, instead only letting out the faintest of whimpers. Yes, yes, he was a slutty little boy, wanting, no, _needing_ Puck to fuck him. Hard. Preferably leaving his hips black and blue from being held on to too roughly, his hole nothing but an open, loose mess after Puck was through with him...

He groaned out when there suddenly was a loud smack echoing through the room. It actually took the countertenor a while to realize that Puck had spanked him. When he did though he instantly tried to spread his knees even further apart, spreading them wider, to let Puck know he could take more. That he wanted more. 

He always wanted more.

But – it was in vain. The combination of the chains and the spreader bar made any movement impossible. He mostly just shifted in place, whining lowly in defeat when the only thing his movements resulted in was his cock and nipples aching from the sharp pull of the chains.

“So needy...” Puck laughed, making Kurt whimper pathetically, arching up into the palm stroking his tingling ass. He wanted Puck to hit him again.

Goose bumps shoot up all over his body when a long, flat piece of leather was dragged over his back and ass – one of Puck's many belts, Kurt guessed – and shivered when he realized what it was Puck had planned for him.

“See you figured it out love,” Puck teased, skirting the belt over his spread thighs. “You want it, don't you? Want me to pelt your greedy little ass with this belt, 'til your all red and aching? Want me to make you scream before I fuck your little fuckhole, huh? Well don't worry slut, there's no way I'm passing that up, your tight hole always feel so good squeezing around me after I've beaten it red first.”

The first hit over his up-turned cheeks does in fact make Kurt scream, a high wail passing his lips as he's lurched forward ever so slightly by the force of the smack, making the chains pull on his nipples and cock. Kurt is in no way careful to keep his screams in; Puck likes his various sounds far too much for Kurt to so that when Puck hasn't explicitly told him to be quiet. And the way his loud moans ring through the room is nothing but obscene, leaving Kurt himself a panting mess.

His ass is already aching from just that first swing of the belt, but he's relishing in the pain, because as always it makes him feel alive – not to mention how it makes thick dribbles of cum ooze out of his hardened length.

The next impact only leave him hissing faintly. Puck hadn't packed much force with the hit that struck the top of his left thigh. It was either on purpose to merely _tease_ Kurt, or it was just a mistake on his tanned lovers part, in which case Kurt would most certainly find the next few hits far more aggressive and painful, with Puck feeling like he'd need to make up for that one subpar hit.

And just like he'd suspected, Kurt found himself wailing several high notes when Puck made good on his earlier promise and began pelting his ass with the belt, the strikes landing all over his lower back, ass and thighs. A few of the hits even grazed over his hanging balls, making him whine brokenly from the rush of sensations rushing through his strung tight body.

“Just a few more slut,” Puck tells him in between more delicious strikes, “only ten more and then I'll fuck your wanton ass good and hard.”

The promise makes him whimper, because his cock is hanging achingly between his thighs and ready to come with just a sliver of attention. Kurt knows he won't manage to hold his orgasm in for those ten hits, knows he will blow before Puck is finished. Kurt knows he won't be able to be Puck's good little cockslut, and he whines, clenching his teeth together as he feels himself releasing into the bedding when the belt lands on the swell of his ass three times in quick succession.

“I'm sorry,” he begs, angling his flushed face away from the pillows and trying to catch a glimpse of his lover, straining his neck and making the chain pull at his throbbing nipples. “I-I didn't mean to- I didn't- I'm sorry!”

“Oh, no, no, little whore,” Puck tuts disapprovingly, skimming his fingers down Kurt's softening length and feeling the cum dribbling down the head of it. Kurt can _feel_ his disappointed eyes looking at him, and he closes his own teary ones, ashamed for not being able to stave off his own orgasm. “Couldn't hold it in, could you little painslut? And here I was gonna fuck you for being such a good little boy to me. Guess I can't do that now, can I? Don't want my little slut to think he can get away with coming without permission, now can I?” Puck says as he begins kneading Kurt's balls between his fingers. “But I think I know how to get the point across...”

When the belt lands directly on the balls still resting in Puck's hold Kurt wails, his throat burning as he screams out his torment. His ass being beaten bloody earlier is nothing compared to this agony, his insides clenching as his sac is being struck again and again.

In reality it isn't the pain that's racketing through his body from his balls that's the worst, it's the waves of disappointment he can feel from Puck that sickens him the most. He hates that he couldn't be good for Puck, hates that he did something not permitted, hates that he's such a _bad slut_.

“I'm sorry, so, _so_ sorry!” he cries, body curling in on itself when Puck continues to press slap after slap against his hurting balls with his belt. “I didn't mean to! I'm sorry! I'll be a good boy, I'll be a good slut I promise! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!”

“You'll be sorry,” Puck promises, hurling a fifth hit against his sac. “I'm not stopping until these are so swollen you'll have trouble sitting for a week.”

“I'm sorry,” Kurt whispers, resigning himself to the current and impending pain. Sure, it hurts, it actually hurts a lot, but not enough for him to wish it to stop. Puck knows his limits, is well familiar with Kurt's tolerance (and masochistic love) for pain and agony, and won't harm Kurt to the point where he'll find the need to actually safe-word his way out of the situation. He never has before, and he won't today. This aching pain he's suffering now is far from the worst he's ever felt, and as it is, his dick is slowly filling up again, once again hanging hard between his spread legs.

Soon enough the blows towards his sac is just a secondary focus in his mind, the haze filling his mind blurring everything but how ashamed and sorry he's feeling from earning this punishment in the first place.

“There,” Puck eventually speaks, drawing Kurt out of his daze. “Good and swollen,” the mohawked teen comments, caressing Kurt's balls that feel like they've doubled in size. “Such a good boy and receiving his punishment without arguing.”

The words make a small part of his heartache fade, but only a small part. It's enough to make him hope though. “I'm a good slut?” Kurt asks faintly, sniffling as he feels snot running down his nose.

“My excellent, precious little cockslut,” Puck praises, moving around him and pressing a passionate kiss against Kurt's lips, headless of the filthy stream of tears and snot covering his face.

“Yours,” Kurt whispers, a small smile tugging at his lips when Puck pulls back.

“Mine,” Puck agrees, stroking his jaw softly, making Kurt purr. This short moment of sweetness is enough to lift Kurt's spirit back from his earlier bad mood, his face lightning up when Puck makes his way back behind him, stroking his newly bruised skin all over as he does. 

“Think you've deserved that fucking now,” Puck announces, showing Kurt the small bottle of lube in his hold. “Gonna take you without prepping though, cockslut like you are you're little fuckhole will drag me in anyway.”

Kurt only moans, pushing his face back against the pillows below him. Truth is they haven't bothered with such silly things like prepping in months, not since they'd begun sleeping together regularly. Especially not since discovering how much Kurt adored the slight burn from being taken without prep.

Hands pulling his sore cheeks aside, exposing him to Puck, Kurt sighs when he feels a blunt, wet tip pressing against his quivering hole. He wants, needs, _craves_ that inside him, forcing his twitching muscles to yield and making him scream from the pleasure of being fucked.

He groans when Puck drives himself inside with no thought of being careful, Kurt's insides clenching hotly around the intrusion as he's filled to the brim. Already from the start Puck is pounding him like mad, Kurt finding himself being dragged all over despite his bound limbs. The movements racking his body leaves his cock and nipples aching, the chains pulling on them harsh and unrelenting.

It's positively delicious.

Obscenely moaning, groaning, crying out and screaming Kurt accepts everything he's been given, allowing Puck to use him like he is for pleasure, finding so much of that on his own when Puck hammers against his prostate. Even more so when their skin clash together with every little thrust and Kurt's reddened skin is sending jolts of thrilling pleasure through his body.

“Oh, Puck, Puck, Puck,” Kurt trills with a stutter, voice rough, his shoulders dragging against the bedding below him. “Can I come? Can I please come? Need to so badly, please?”

“Not yet,” Puck demands, hands gripping Kurt's hips tighter, thumbs digging deep into his skin. “Don't you dare come yet.”

“Please, Puck! Oh, fuck! Please let me come,” Kurt begs brokenly before latching onto his bottom lip and biting hard enough to draw blood, forcing himself not to come before he's allowed again. “Please?”

“No,” Puck hisses, leaning forth over Kurt and biting harshly into his shoulder, making Kurt cry out again as his body shudders from yet another stimuli. There's no way he'll be able to stave off this second orgasm for long, and he can only hope Puck will grant him his release soon.

“Please,” Kurt pleads hoarsely through clenched teeth, digging his nails into his palms and curling his toes, every muscle in his body working towards keeping himself from coming too soon. “Please, please, oh, please, fuck, _please let me come_!”

Braving his chances Kurt tries to relax enough so that he'll be able to squeeze around Puck's thick length, and though he almost comes untouched when first relaxing his clenched muscles Kurt somehow manages to hold on and clasp around the fat cock breaching him.

“Yes, fuck,” Puck accolades, the grasp on Kurt's hips tightening as Puck's thrust grow erratic and shallow. “Fuck, Kurt. Yeah, come on slut, come around my thick cock. Good little whore, come,” Puck goads, encouraging Kurt his release.

Mouth opening wide Kurt can't emit a single sound as his second orgasm of the night crashes upon him, dick spilling rope after rope into the bedding below him. He can feel his limbs shaking violently as his sight darkens, tiny white sparks appearing through the black haze.

Above and behind and in him Kurt can feel his strong lover come as well, Puck shooting his load deep within him as his teeth latch on to Kurt's bowed neck.

Suddenly, Kurt's body feels surprisingly drained, his mind empty as he feels his body go limp and pliant. Faintly he can feel Puck releasing him from his bonds, can recall himself hissing in protest when the clamps around his nipples are pulled ever so slightly before being removed. However, the process of easing his arms and legs off the spreader bar and into a lying position evades him, as he's already fallen asleep by that point.

When he'll wake up an hour or so later he will find himself cuddled up close to his Puck, his dom, and he'll smile beautifully at the strong boy. He'll let Puck treat his new bruises and the wounds he'd inflicted himself to his lip, before allowing Puck to help him get dressed properly before his father will be home a few hours later. When Burt will come home both Kurt and Puck will be laying down on the couch in the living room, a mindless soap playing before them with an empty pizza box resting on the coffee table, and his father will be none the wiser of his son's activities earlier that day.

For now however, now Kurt is falling into a dreamless sleep, content and happy.


End file.
